


A Fatherly Hand

by Suzie_Shooter



Category: Alex Rider (TV 2020), Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Guilt, Incest (one-sided), M/M, Masturbation, Revenge, Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: Written for the kinkmeme prompt of:“John catches sight of Yassen fucking Alex into the mattress. For some inexplicable reason, he can't look away.”(Alternate timeline in which John lives and Alex reaches eighteen without finding out what his father does for a living.)
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich/Alex Rider
Comments: 5
Kudos: 89
Collections: Alex Rider Kinkmeme





	A Fatherly Hand

John Rider was having a bad week. It had started off well enough, when he’d been asked if he would act as handler for a defecting Scorpia agent, a request to which he’d readily agreed – until he heard which agent they were talking about.

“Yassen Gre- shit. That’s not going to work. We’ve got, er – history.”

“He asked for you specifically. Don’t blow this Rider, if we can bring him across it’ll be the biggest coup this department’s pulled off in years.”

Yassen had asked for him? John had always assumed Yassen would have held his duplicity against him, but perhaps he remembered things differently, or simply didn’t bear a grudge. John had just been doing his job, after all. And if Yassen really was defecting perhaps he felt a recognisable face would be reassuring. 

There had been a niggling suspicion in the back of John’s mind that the whole thing was a ruse to get close enough to murder him, but the initial meetings had gone surprisingly well. He’d thought the week was looking up, until the second lot of bad news had hit. 

It wasn’t drastic in the great scheme of things, but he could have done without it the week he was babysitting a possible double agent. In their great wisdom the corporate division had decided the intelligence team should join the MI6 summer party – under guise of the bank, of course – which was how he came to be at a fucking garden fete standing next to a Russian assassin holding a glass of Pimms. 

He’d really thought the week couldn’t get any worse. That was until he looked up to see the boy sweet-talking his way though the gates and sashaying over to to them.

“Hey Dad.”

“Alex.” John closed his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“We were supposed to be hanging out, right? Until you cancelled on me. So I figured I’d come to you instead.” He gave Yassen a slow appraising up and down glance. “Who’s your friend?”

“Alex, I’m working.”

“Yeah, really looks like it. Hi, I’m Alex.”

“Yassen.” They shook hands, the touch lingering perhaps a moment longer than it should have.

“Dad’s never mentioned you before?”

“Yassen’s on secondment. Look, Alex, I really need – ”

“You don’t look much like a banker,” Alex told Yassen, ignoring John completely and making him grind his teeth.

“I’m more of a – troubleshooter,” Yassen said, flicking an amused glance at John. “Hostile takeovers a speciality.”

John interposed himself between them and gave Alex a parental glare. “Beat it.”

“Jeez.” Alex wandered off into the crowd, and John was so busy glaring after him that he missed the way Yassen, too, thoughtfully watched him walk away.

–

“Alex right?” 

Alex spun round and spilt his drink down the shirt of the man who’d come up behind him.

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Alex dabbed at it ineffectively. 

“Don’t worry about it. Really.”

“Sorry. It’s Yassen right?”

“That’s right. We didn’t really get a chance to talk earlier.” It was Yassen’s turn to look him up and down. “Forgive me, you’re not really how I imagined John Rider’s son would be.”

Alex beamed. “You say the sweetest things.”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Uh-huh. I like the shirt by the way.”

Alex’s t-shirt was a large rainbow with ‘make love not war’ printed across the top.

“Really? My father hates it.”

Yassen smiled slightly. “Oh, I see. I’m getting the picture. You turn up at his place of work, crash an event you’re not invited to, wearing a shirt he hates. Maybe you’re more like him than I first thought.”

“Hey. Don’t ruin the moment.”

“Oh I’m sorry, were we having a moment?” Yassen teased.

“Play your cards right, we could be.” Alex held his gaze, and Yassen slowly smiled.

–

John had a brief moment of panic. He’d been relieved there’d been no sign of Alex and assumed he’d done as he was told and gone home, but it had belatedly occurred to him there’d been no sign of Yassen for a while either. He was on the brink of convincing himself the man had either done a bunk or been assassinated for trying to defect when he turned up again, looking as impassive as ever. 

“There you are.” John breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Come on, we’ve shown our faces, let’s get out of here.”

It was much later when John finally got home, having run through another debriefing session with Yassen and left him in the safehouse. He was about to go to bed when he stopped. Something was wrong. Something was different.

The laptop, he thought. The laptop on the desk was open. He always closed it when he was finished. 

Cautiously, John went across and swiped a finger across the pad. The screen lit up, and he stared. There was a new video file in the middle of the desktop. 

He checked the door was locked and lowered himself onto the seat. Clicked the file.

It took him a moment to work out what he was looking at. Two men kissing. He clucked his tongue in annoyance, thinking this was some kind of prank by Alex, that it would be exactly the sort of thing he’d find funny, to put a porn clip on John’s laptop. 

Except – someone had disabled the password function to do this. Alex shouldn’t have been able to do that. Even as he had the thought, one of the people on screen helped the second man lift his shirt off and he briefly turned towards the camera.

“Alex?” John sat bolt upright in shock. Was Alex filming _himself_? That wasn’t funny, that was sick. Except – John’s stomach sank through the floor as he finally recognised the second man, and it all made a horrible kind of sense.

Yassen.

“What the fuck?” John stared at the screen, barely seeing it. The party. They’d both disappeared. They must have been together. Had Yassen followed him, had he forced Alex to – but no, John’s alarmed rage shrivelled as quickly as it had arisen. Watching this, there was no way you could argue Alex was anything other than a very willing participant. 

Why was he still watching? John experienced a spike of guilt, but told himself he needed to know if Alex was complicit in this. He didn’t think he was, he realised with some relief. If Alex had known he was being filmed, he wouldn’t have been able to resist looking towards the camera and he hadn’t, not once.

Something else occurred to John and he froze. He’d suddenly recognised the room they were in. He should have clocked it before, but he’d been transfixed by the couple themselves, and the very familiarity of it had rendered it unremarkable. It was Alex’s bedroom. They’d come back here, Yassen had been in this house. Well of course he had, John realised, he’d put the file on his laptop.

Shit shit shit. 

Was Alex even okay? John had a moment of alarm as he realised he had no idea how this video ended. What if it turned violent? Had Yassen left him a snuff film?

John was on his feet and down the hall before he knew what he was doing. There was a light on under Alex’s door, and faint music playing. He knocked lightly. 

“Alex?”

“Yeah?”

John rested his head on the doorframe, breathing deeply. 

“Just checking you were in. I’m going to bed.”

“Okay. Night.” 

John retraced his steps. Locked himself back in his bedroom, sat down at the computer again. Reset the clip to the beginning, watching more closely now he knew who they were.

They weren’t wasting any time in getting down to it, that was for sure. John told himself he had to watch this through to the end, had to know that Alex was alright, and if he wasn’t, if he did after all need help, that John knew about it. It wasn’t like he could ask somebody else to watch it for him, and he sure as shit wasn’t going down there to ask Alex about it. He supposed he could go and beat it out of Yassen. Maybe he still would.

He still couldn’t take his eyes away from what was happening on screen. He tried to concentrate on Yassen, but his eyes kept sliding treacherously to Alex. Pale skin and long limbs, he was a bit taller than Yassen but more slightly built. Yassen’s hands were splayed on Alex’s buttocks, lifting him against him, and Alex was wrapping his legs around Yassen’s waist, kissing him intently. Yassen was making sure it was Alex who was in full view of the camera, he realised. 

John swallowed, trying to ignore the guilty knowledge that he was slowly getting hard.

Alex was kneeling between Yassen’s legs now and John felt a surge of rage at the sight of Yassen sprawled so casually back amongst Alex’s pillows while Alex went down on him.

Somehow John’s hand had come to rest on his crotch and he moved it deliberately away again. This was Alex for fuck’s sake, what was he thinking?

Well, he was thinking Alex was suspiciously good at giving head for one thing. John had tried not to think too much about what sort of thing Alex might get up to when he wasn’t around. He’d told himself he was fine with it when Alex had come out, if he was honest the thing that had really annoyed him was when Alex had declared himself to be a pacifist. He’d learn, John had told him angrily. It had been, somewhat ironically, the biggest fight they’d ever had. 

Alex was certainly sucking down on Yassen like a trooper. Yassen said something inaudible and it abruptly occurred to John he hadn’t checked if there was sound with this.

He clicked the volume and discovered with a lurch of his stomach that there was. Telling himself he needed to know, that was all, he needed to know, he drew the status bar back to the beginning again.

He hadn’t missed what could be termed crucial information, by any means. They weren’t speaking much at all, but with the volume up John could pick out the sounds of their kissing, the heavy breathing, the little wet noises of Alex sucking him off.

Fuck. John realised his hand was back on his groin, he was so hard it was painful. He was going to have to unzip himself, just because it was so uncomfortable. 

The sound of the zip seemed loud, and John shot a nervous glance at the door. It was locked, and Alex had music on. It was fine.

He looked back at the screen. Alex was sprawled next to Yassen now and the Russian’s hand was between his legs, stroking him slowly. 

He shouldn’t be looking at this. He shouldn’t be staring at his own fucking son’s fucking erection. He certainly shouldn’t be palming his own to it. 

John experienced a momentary spike of disappointment when Yassen suddenly stopped playing with Alex’s cock, only to catch his breath when Yassen pushed the boy down on the bed and climbed on top of him. 

“Wait.” Alex had a hand on Yassen’s chest and John once more felt that surge of conflicting emotions as he feared Yassen was just going to take what he wanted.

But Alex was still smiling, and Yassen did indeed wait patiently while Alex scrambled sideways to take something out of a drawer. 

John had the incongruous thought that at least Alex apparently wasn’t a virgin. This was swiftly followed by the slightly more indignant thought that if he had a drawer-full of condoms and lube in his bedroom, how many other men had he brought back here?

He bit his lip. He should look away, he shouldn’t watch this. His concern for Alex was nothing more than an excuse, he knew that now. He had no doubt this was Yassen’s revenge on him, and initially he’d been afraid his intention would be to hurt his son. But watching this play out, he now understood. How much more bitter for John to have to watch Yassen fuck Alex and make him enjoy it. 

Had Yassen known he’d watch it all the way though? He must have. John had his hand in his underwear now, was stroking himself with tiny subtle jerks as if he could pretend he wasn’t. 

He watched, grim faced and achingly hard, as Yassen, judging the camera angle to perfection, laid Alex face down on his childhood bed and pushed his cock between his legs. 

Alex’s fingers tightened in the bedspread as Yassen thrust into him, gripping Alex’s hips with a force that looked like it would bruise. Alex had his eyes closed and his lips parted, and John could hear him panting and groaning, letting out little whimpers of pleasure.

He could no longer pretend he wasn’t into this. John’s hand was moving faster on himself in time with Yassen’s strokes, and his self-loathing was drowned out by his now desperate need to come.

On screen, Alex’s cries were getting louder and more filthy by the second and Yassen was pounding into him hard enough to make the bed shake. Alex gave one last long groan and gripped the bedclothes convulsively, shuddering bodily as he spilled into the covers.

Yassen slowed his movements, pulling out of Alex and rolling him over. Alex’s belly was smeared with his own release and he looked dazed. He lay there smiling vaguely up at Yassen as he took himself in hand and finished himself off kneeling over him, coming in long wet stripes over Alex’s stomach and chest.

He sank back down against the headboard and Alex crawled over to him, flopping down at his side, smiling and exhausted. He turned his face up to Yassen expectantly, who pulled him in close and kissed him.

Sitting alone in his room and biting down on his lip to muffle the noise he desperately wanted to make, John came violently over his hand and shirt.

–

Yassen had gone, of course. When John arrived at the safehouse the next morning it was if Yassen had never been there. 

John had to report to his superiors that the defection had been unsuccessful, and that as far as he was aware Yassen had returned to Scorpia. 

He himself never stopped looking however, and a couple of months later he finally ran him to ground in a warehouse in the East End.

“Yassen.” Approaching him with gun raised, hardly even knowing if he was going to shoot him in cold blood, or if he’d rather beat the shit out of him first.

“John. What a nice surprise.” Yassen walked towards him, ignoring the gun completely. 

“You’re under arrest.” 

Yassen cocked his head. “No. I’m afraid not. You’re going to let me go. Do you know why?”

“That’s not going to happen.” John adjusted his grip on the gun. He knew Yassen was alone, he didn’t even seem to be armed, although John knew better than to trust appearances. 

“I mean, you’ve done some questionable things in your time John, but your own son?” Yassen continued disapprovingly. “Really?”

John went cold all over. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, I think we both know what I’m talking about. It’s funny really. I only installed the camera relay because I wanted to see your face when you realised I’d fucked your son. I didn’t expect – well. That.” 

John shook his head tightly. “You’re bluffing.”

“Are you going to make me say it? You sat there and masturbated to a video of your own son having sex. With me.”

“What do you want?” John asked numbly. 

“Well firstly you can put that gun away. I can tell you that if you kill me here and now, an automated email will be sent to Alex, and I imagine you can guess what will be attached. Oh, and in case that isn’t actually enough of a deterrent? It will also go to your department.”

John lowered the gun slowly. “You were never defecting, were you?”

“Me? No. It’s you who’s defecting John. Unless you want that video of you to see the light of day?” Yassen smiled. “You work for me now.” 

–


End file.
